


K&R, Vol. II

by PumpkinDoodles



Series: The K&R Collection [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brock Rumlow is Scary But He Likes Cool Cars, F/F, F/M, People Keep Thinking Darcy is Hope (It's the Hair), Self-Rescuing Princess, lots of music references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-05-26 20:22:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: Having successfully escaped from deranged kidnapper Brock Rumlow in Europe--he’d mistaken her for Steve Rogers’ best girl--Darcy Lewis is actually in a relationship with her longtime crush Captain America now. That’s nice. Not so nice: waiting for Crossbones to make another move. Sometime in-between stuffing her in his car trunk and turning her into his fantasy arm candy to spite Steve, Rumlow decided their look-but-don’t-touch relationship was the real deal.Now there are oddly familiar cigarettes showing up in the woods around the upstate New York facility and she thinks he’s watching. Darcy decides the best way to trap an obsessed former kidnapper is to make him think she wants him back. So, she’s sent him a coded message. It involves a ‘74 Impala.Bucky Barnes has volunteered to ride shotgun. Maybe literally. He has unfinished business with the guy who kept him captive, too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *I own nothing. Thanks for all your support for this series! K&R= kidnap and ransom insurance.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When You Cry

“What do you mean that’s ‘ex-boyfriend bait’?” Tony asked her, turning away from the vintage car she’d just bought and following Darcy into the facility.

“I’m hoping driving around in a 1974 Impala and the little love note I left at the coffee shop will be enough to get Brock Rumlow to try to contact me,” she said. “He likes that whole Quentin Tarantino vibe. You’ve seen my hair.” Rumlow had treated her like a redecorating project during her captivity, so now she had a _Pulp Fiction_ haircut and a heavy tuberose perfume that she associated with creepy slow dances in his arms.

“You’re trying to encourage your former kidnapper into kidnapping you again?” Tony said, incredulously.

“If I’m right, he’s got people watching me already,” she said. “It’s better if he arrives expecting a warm welcome.”

“You never told me why he didn’t hurt you in the first place,” Tony said.

“Because he thought I loved him, Tony, keep up,” Darcy said. “When you think a girl loves you, you let her fix your drinks and then she can walk out the door once you’ve passed out from all the ground-up sleeping pills.”

She had only told her therapist what Rumlow had tearfully confessed to her the night of her escape: that whole Triskelion thing had left him unable to have sex. He’d kidnapped her, mistakenly thinking she was Steve Rogers’ girlfriend, as revenge for his own feelings of frustration. What had he said?  She heard his sobbing voice in her head: _I wanted him to know what it felt like to want and want and want_ _._

Something about turning her into his own peroxide-bleached fantasy girl to hurt Steve and thinking she genuinely enjoyed it had convinced him they were a real, albeit twisted, couple. Darcy thought maybe he’d watched _True Romance_ too many times. She wondered if he’d sent someone to kill her or to take her back again.

 

***

“You think Rumlow’s the one who was smoking those cigarettes out in the woods?” Bucky Barnes asked her seriously, when she’d found him and Steve in the gym.

“No,” she said. “He never smoked. Told me once that he was glad I never did, either. But I think some of his ex-SHIELDRA guys smoked that brand.”

Steve rubbed her shoulders. “Darce, doll, what would you like to do? If you’d like to go to a safehouse, I’ll go with you. Jane and Thor probably would, too,” he said.

“I’d go too, doll,” Bucky said quietly. He had unfinished business with Rumlow, but he wanted to protect Darcy first.

“I can’t leave, honey,” she said to Steve. They’d been dating for a few months now, after Darcy had escaped from Rumlow. Darcy thought it was one of life’s little ironies that Rumlow mistaking her for Steve’s girl had, by a strange twist of fate, ended with Steve confessing that he’d wanted to ask her out before it all happened. “He’d be suspicious if I disappeared now. He needs to think I really want to be with him for the trap to work,” she said.

 

Ever since Tony had forgiven Bucky and they’d gotten him help for his mind in Wakanda, the three men--Tony, Steve, and Bucky--had planned on capturing Rumlow. Or killing him. Darcy had a similar feeling: Rumlow had once told her that people who bought tasers instead of guns weren’t murderers. She had lifted his gun that last night in Monte Carlo. It was still in her purse.

 

“I’m going to get on the treadmill,” she said, kissing Steve. He smiled at her. He and Nat had been helping her train since she got back. She was nearing a six-minute mile. Her punching form was already very good. As she ran, she listened to Tito & Tarantula’s “When You Cry.”

 

***

_Several months previously, in a hotel in Monte Carlo_

 

The sound of Faison--the security guy that Darcy had nicknamed “French SHIELDRA” for his Marseilles birthplace--knocking at 5am woke Brock Rumlow. “Monsieur? Madame?” he was saying through the suite door. 

“Baby?” Brock said groggily from his chair. “Darcy?” He was alone in the blue dawn light. He stood up and stumbled into the bedroom. The bed was still made. The bathroom was empty. He turned towards the door. When he opened it, Faison was looking at him nervously. “Where is she?” Brock said, rubbing his scalp. He had a splitting headache; he’d drunk too much last night, terrified to tell Darcy the truth. “Is she with you?”

“Pardon?” French SHIELDRA said.

Out of habit, Brock reached to check his gun. It was missing. “Fuck,” he said. “Get me hotel security. What if goddamn O’Leary’s guys took her?”

O’Leary, one of his old HYDRA colleagues, was one of the reasons for the overseas trip. They’d been negotiating Crossbones jobs all week. O’Leary was staying on another floor. It was one reason why he’d kept Darcy away, guarded on a boat until the night before. He panicked.

 

When Brock finally screamed at the hotel staff enough that they showed him the security tapes, he broke down. Through his sobs, he said, “She just left. She left.” The cameras showed Darcy walking right out of the hotel.

“Monsieur, shall I look for her?” Faison said nervously. “Perhaps she returned to the boat?” he said hopefully. He did not want to deal with a crying and distraught Crossbones. Rumlow tended to react poorly to setbacks.

“I’ll go with you,” Rumlow said, looking irrationally hopeful himself. “Maybe she went back for something.”

 _Oh, this is marvelous,_ thought Faison bitterly in French _. He is totally in denial. I hope he does not shoot us when he realizes.  
_

 

They were only saved from a bloody end because one of O’Leary’s guys alerted them that Clint Barton had arrived with a team and was searching the hotel for him. Crossbones had no idea, but Nat had called Clint from a quinjet with Steve and Darcy. She was safe. They’d picked her up in Nice, where they’d been looking because paparazzi photos of her and Rumlow at a restaurant has been pinged by Jarvis.

As the boat hurriedly left the harbor, Rumlow had to content himself with breaking everything he could get his hands on. “She’s gone, she’s gone,” he was saying to himself, in the middle of his destroyed bedroom, when Faison listened at the door.

When Dana--Darcy’s female SHIELDRA guard--went to get him something to help him sleep, she discovered her sleeping pills were missing. She did not tell Crossbones her suspicions.

Always proud of his body and his strength, he had been having suicidal ideation and outbursts on and off since DC. His intense fixation with Darcy had seemed to give him some emotional stability and routine. Dana--and the rest of the team--wanted Darcy back.

The next morning, when Dana approached him about what to do, he was cold and eerily calm. “Let the bitch go,” he said. “What do I care? I don’t need her. Get me that information O’Leary sent. We’re going to work.”

 

***

When he’d worked himself to exhaustion, Brock finally broke.

 

“Find her,” he told one of his men, one who was a good marksman, “take pictures and send them to me. Then I’ll tell you what to do. Take your gun.” He’d often dreamed of Darcy dancing on the boat. In all his dreams, she laughed at him, just out of reach. Still, he craved her touch. He was torn between that desire and a second one: he wanted to hurt her badly. He thought seeing her shot might make it better. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her killed there in upstate New York or just injured enough that she couldn’t fight back in another kidnapping.

A week or so after the man had taken up his surveillance post near the Avengers facility, he called Rumlow. “Boss, I think she left you a note,” the man said. “I’ve FedEx’d it to you, but I’m emailing photos now. You’ll want to see this. She’s not blonde anymore, but she sorta looks the same? She’s been driving around in an old Impala, too.” Brock loved Impalas, everyone knew.

When he opened the message and saw the photos of Darcy leaning against a blue one and a photograph of the note--her slightly smudged _do you believe in second chances when people are really in love?_ sealed with a kiss _\--_ all the desire to make her suffer bled away. She’d darkened her hair back to brown, but otherwise seemed to be signalling him.

“She’s still mine,” he said to himself, smiling. After DC, it hurt to touch himself, but he masturbated frantically while looking at the photos anyway. The mixture of pleasure and intense pain he felt sent him to a sudden, agonizing climax. When he was done, he touched her face on his laptop screen with a damp thumb. “I love you, baby,” he whispered. He felt better than he had in months.

He called Dana and told her to ready a plane for New York as soon as they were finished with their current job.

That night, he dreamed of her. But she didn’t laugh at him. She was impossibly perfect and willing in his arms. When he woke up, there were tears in his eyes. He touched himself--flinching in agony--and said her name over and over.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I Only Have Eyes For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing. Thanks for all your comments & kudos!

“I meant for this to be more romantic,” Steve said apologetically. Darcy and Steve had decided to move their date indoors the next night. Pepper’s rooftop garden at the facility was a little too visible to prying eyes.

To get away from everyone who tended to pop up grinning during their dates--assorted Wombats, Loki, Thor, Clint, etc.--Steve had hidden them away in a facility conference room. He’d had her favorite Asian fusion food brought in, since she was only leaving the building with security now. He’d managed to find LED flameless candles, too.

“Any place with you is romantic, Captain Steve,” Darcy told him. She’d picked up the Wombats’ nickname for Captain America. “Also, that’s a really cute way of avoiding setting off the commercial sprinklers.” She gestured towards the candles.

“Are you sure you don’t want to watch Netflix or something at your apartment instead?” he said, smiling. “We can watch terrible movies or tv and I can laugh at you making fun of them.” He liked that. They’d done a spate of cop procedurals last week. Steve had been oddly mesmerized by _CSI: Miami_ and Darcy had started walking around in sunglasses and doing a Horatio Caine impression to make Steve laugh. Bucky had joined in. Bucky was funny as hell.

“No,” she said. “Clint will pop out of the vents when he smells popcorn or Loki will magic himself in and you’ll have to yell at them about giving us privacy again,” Darcy said, laughing. “You’ve been having to do your ‘Captain America Disapproves’ face a lot lately.”

“I know,” Steve said, sighing. “Why do they make me do it?” he said plaintively.

“I think there might be a betting pool on who gets it the most now,” Darcy admitted.

“Loki,” Steve grumbled. Loki and Darcy had a minor feud going.

“Don’t worry about it,” Darcy said, taking his hand. She kissed the inside of his palm and he smiled.

“Why don’t you pick out some music?” he asked, cupping her face. She leaned into his touch. Just being around Steve made Darcy happy. She picked the Flamingos “I Only Have Eyes for You” and preemptively claimed all the cream cheese and crab wontons. Steve tended to eat in quantity.

“This is a really good song,” Steve said, beaming.

“Right?” Darcy said. “It’s the best.” She’d gotten him into doo wop and world music. Also, cookie dough ice cream. They both loved old movies, especially Rita Hayworth films and _The Thin Man_ series. She had a surprising amount of shared likes with a ninety year old who could remember the Great Depression. They were already talking about naming their eventual dog--once Darcy wore Tony down--Asta.

 

“Guess what I ordered during Jane’s Science! Binge today, honey?” she said, pulling out her phone. “A whole book on regional heirloom pies in America. It’s called _The United States of Pie._ I’m going to make you one. I’ve never made a pie before.”

“Aw,” Steve said softly, “you don’t gotta do that for me.”

“I want to! Would you like a pie from the Northeast, like cheddar-crusted apple, or something from a different region? I had chess pie at Culver once, it’s delicious.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Steve said, looking mischievous. “I’ve never really liked apple pie. Always preferred peach.”

“Peach it is,” she promised. “Pecans or no pecans on top?”

“You know what?” he asked. “I don’t actually know. I’ve never had one with pecans.”

 

When they’d talked about more fun things for a bit, Steve finally lost his happy, content look. “Do you think you’re ready?” he asked seriously. “We can always go to Plan B?” Plan B was the safehouse with part of the team. Tony had offered them a property he owned in the Bahamas because Darcy liked warm weather. Also, it was on an island. Darcy had dismissed it as too much like an Agatha Christie novel and thus, likely to backfire on them. The butler would probably turn out to be Brock's secret cousin or something.

“Nope. I’m ready, Steve,” she said. “Now give me some of your orange chicken, mister.” Steve laughed.

“Okay, Peaches,” he said.

“Oooh, I like that. That’s cute, Steve.”

 

***

Later that night, Darcy traced patterns on Steve’s shoulder blades. He was sitting next to her on her couch, watching TV. Reruns of _CSI: Miami._ She’d slid her hand underneath his shirt and was kneading his back. Steve had been cautious about how he moved forward in their relationship, but he sighed softly now. “That’s really nice, doll,” he said.

“You’re probably dating the wrong Lewis,” she told him. “I learned that from my sister, the actual massage therapist.”

“Nah,” he said, smiling, “I like the Lewis I’m with just fine. Do people really dress like that in Miami now?” he asked. Everyone seemed to be wearing tropical prints and white jeans.

“Steve?” she said to him suddenly.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“You know how you couldn’t believe he hadn’t hurt me?” Darcy asked. “Back in France?”

“Uh-huh,” he said softly. “You know, you can tell me. But you don’t have to tell me if you want to keep this between you and your private therapist, doll.” He didn’t want to pressure or spook her. He’d talked about it with their shared group therapist for PTSD, the one they saw in group sessions with Tony and other people at the facility. Steve was letting Darcy decide when she was ready to tell him things and the kinds of physical contact they had. He wanted her to feel safe. To his surprise, she was very cuddly and affectionate with him.

“I know,” she said, massaging at the spot under his right shoulder blade. He tended to get tension knots there. “But it feels like the right time. You should know that he’s angry with you because of his DC injuries.”

“Yeah,” Steve said carefully, looking down at his unscarred forearm. His other arm was around Darcy. He’d seen the hospital reports and photographs. The once-handsome Brock Rumlow was now deeply scarred. Sometimes, it still surprised him that he’d had no clue about STRIKE being HYDRA until that elevator. He’d considered Rumlow a casual work friend. Not as close as Nat, but someone dependable in an emergency. They’d worked together for two years.

“He’s impotent now, Steve,” Darcy said quietly. When Steve twisted his head to look at her in surprise, she continued. “That’s why he kidnapped me. He didn’t touch me because he’s insecure about it, but he wanted you to imagine he was. And he tried to get me to like him. He kept telling me it was your fault I was there,” she said.

Steve looked pained. “I should have found you quicker. But you were smarter than I am, you rescued yourself, Darce. Got out without even letting anyone in his crew see you go. Nat says you have a gift for espionage,” he said.

Darcy smiled at him then.

With all their resources, it seemed like a failure that he hadn’t found the first safehouse just over the Canadian border and that Darcy had been forced to win Rumlow’s trust, so she could make a clever escape all alone. Still, Steve knew she was smart and resourceful. If she thought that luring him out was the best way, she knew what she was doing.

Steve worried about the facility, though. Tony was hyper-confident in his new building, but Steve’s tactical side fretted about the sheer size of the place. He’d gone around quietly asking about backup generators in case of power failure with the arc reactors and the number of possible entrances to the building. Brock Rumlow had run STRIKE Alpha for years and hidden his HYDRA affiliations. He was still intelligent. Steve didn’t want to underestimate his cunning. He was starting emergency drills with the Avengers and the Science! People tomorrow. He wanted everyone to practice getting to where they needed to be in case Rumlow tried to get Darcy.

 

“Whatcha thinking about, hot stuff?” she asked him, breaking his chain of troubled thoughts.

“I guess I’m thinking...Rumlow might find he’s run out of second chances,” Steve said, pretending to slide down a pair of sunglasses.

Darcy burst out laughing. “Oh my God, your David Caruso impression is actually getting worse. I didn’t know that was possible,” she said. “Do it again. I wanna record it on my phone for Bucky.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve's POV is tough for me to write because I don't know how he's not a giant ball of anxiety right now, between Rumlow's history with his BFF and his GF.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing. Thanks for all the kudos & support.

“You’re putting the Wombats with the skeleton staff in the panic rooms?” Nat asked Steve the next morning. She had the tactical plan he’d drawn up.

Darcy had wanted the civilians safe elsewhere and had helped Steve come up with a plan. They were quietly moving many of the SI employees out and working with a smaller security and IT staff for the next week or so. Luckily, Tony had an enclosed garage, so it just looked like they were getting the normal cafeteria and office supply deliveries that week. The vans and 18-wheelers were really full of SI staff being moved out to a hotel thirty miles away under the guise of some sort of efficiency conference. They could be shifted farther away--SI’s Ontario office--if things took longer. In the meantime, Tony had told them to have fun and had given them an unlimited food and drinks tab. Steve had a feeling that would end up being the most expensive part of the operation. Their empty offices had been set up with electronic window decoys. That had been Bucky’s idea; he remembered stuff like that from the war. Hank Pym and Tony had updated it for the 2010s, by making them photostatic window images of people busily working as normal.

“Yeah,” Steve said to Nat, “I don’t want the Wombats to get hurt and I trust them to help the regular security staff move everyone and keep us informed. Kurt volunteered to work with IT this week, in case we get an electronic breach.”

“I will feel pity for the remaining employees who are trapped in a panic room with Luis,” Nat said.

“He’s not that bad,” Steve said. “At least he tries.”

“You are fond of him because he likes your Itty-Bitty,” Nat said dryly. Steve smiled.

“He’s better than Loki,” he said. Steve was holding a grudge because Loki had once suggested they let Rumlow keep Darcy and then had the nerve to get fresh with her as he and Nat had brought her off the quinjet. Now Loki had taken to playing pranks on Darcy in the labs.

Natasha refrained from telling Steve her theory that Loki had a minor infatuation with both Darcy and Jane. Steve hadn’t guessed yet; it wasn’t in his nature to annoy a woman to get her attention. Also, Natasha believed it would only make him do his disapproving face and give Loki a lecture, which Loki would secretly enjoy. The Asgardian craved attention, even negative attention. He was a child.

Steve did not trust Loki to actually help, so in his plan involved Thor and Loki being paired up at all times and with Jane and Darcy. He thought Loki might take responsibility for his brother’s lady more seriously. A fraction more seriously, anyway. Thor could always whack him with the hammer if necessary. Sam, Rhodey, Scott, and Tony could be flexibly deployed anywhere in miles with their suits; Bruce was more difficult to place, but Steve thought the SI lobby atrium was a nice spot for him to smash a few guys for a start. The sight of the Hulk had sent more than one mercenary running in the opposite direction, so having Bruce as a welcoming committee was part of Steve’s plan. He, Bucky, Nat, and Clint had agreed they could move anywhere in the building.

 

“I’ve already got IT setting up a program to seal the vents if we get a perimeter breach, so Clint can move freely,” Steve told Nat. “They can only be opened from the inside or with our verbal codes.” He knew Rumlow would anticipate his old coworker Clint’s methods and might try to flood the vents with something disabling. Or worse. There were rumors he might be stealing a biological agent in Africa right now. Steve had wanted to intercept him there, but Darcy had vetoed that plan as too risky to civilians before she set her own in motion. She believed he might be--paradoxically--less inclined to kill random people if she dangled herself as bait, she’d told Steve. It was something one of Rumlow’s security people had told her once. She made him more focused. That made Steve uneasy about how far Rumlow would go to get her back..

“Have you seen anything today?” Steve asked the redhead. He’d asked Clint and Natasha to ramp up their surveillance duties in anticipation of a breach.

“Nothing other than the same man in the woods. Surveillance from the coffee shop shows him picking up Darcy’s note. Kurt found him again at a FedEx store that afternoon, sending the note,” she said. “But no one has joined him.”

“When do the Maximoffs arrive?” Steve asked.

“This afternoon,” Nat said. “Clint’s taken the quinjet to pick them up. Should be here within moments.”

Wanda had volunteered their services in the event of trouble with Rumlow. She and Darcy had apparently bonded, Steve learned, over their shared love of someone called Doc Martens? Steve didn’t understand the reference, but Wanda was now a regular at Jane and Darcy’s girls nights. He supposed it was another TV show.

 

***

In the Science! People labs, Darcy was trying to calm her nerves with music. Luis, at least, was enjoying her Bob Marley & the Wailers. He was singing along to “Burnin’ and Lootin’” as he, Bucky, and Dave played video games on the couch in the adjoining lab break room. Darcy had insisted on a snack and nap zone to keep her scientists happy. She thought of her job as something in-between assistant and comforting daycare worker. Bruce was her easiest Tall Science! Toddler. He always took his naps. Tony had to be bribed with cookies before he would sleep on his lab couch. Jane was basically the same.

“Must he continue with that infernal caterwauling?” Loki said from his spot next to Darcy’s desk.

“Shut it, Your Royal Painness,” Scott said from nearby. He was helping Jane weld some of her equipment back together after one of Loki’s pranks. Darcy loved Scott. He was almost as easygoing as Bruce and really good at helping Jane with the mechanical engineering side of her experiments. He’d prevented many a Jane meltdown when he was around. But for Cassie in California, Darcy would have tried to get Tony to offer him an exorbitant salary to move into the facility full-time. She had to settle for part-time Scott and the Wombats.

 

“I’ve always liked that part about talking to the boss,” Darcy said to Luis. “Supposedly it’s a jab at Jimmy Cliff’s “Many Rivers to Cross.”

“Like a 1970s diss track?” Dave said. “That’s badass.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said.  “Burnin’ and Lootin’” was her favorite Wailers song. Maybe. She could never decide between that and the great line about putting all your cards on the table in “Is This Love?”

 This sent Luis into a long discussion of his favorite diss tracks to Bucky that was making Jane smile from behind a machine. Loki sighed.

  
“If you behave, I’ll show you the new craft supplies I got last week,” Darcy told Loki quietly. He was a full-time resident now and her most troublesome charge. She’d decided his magic woo-woo was just Asgard Science!, after all.

“I do not care about craft supplies,” Loki said haughtily.

“Oh, really? Then I guess you’ve never seen the joy that is Martha Stewart’s range of green tones.”

“There are greens?” Loki said, dropping his charade of indifference.

“Uh-huh,” she said. “I also have these new watercolor pens. Very cool.” She’d bought a set for Steve as a surprise and then decided on a second one for Loki. He had an artistic flair that she was sure he’d learned from Frigga.

 

When Loki was happily swishing his watercolor pens and making some drawings that looked like Jackson Pollock, if Pollock had worked exclusively in greens and golds, Darcy smiled and let herself wish. She’d gone to buy art supplies on the slim hope that Rumlow wouldn’t show up at all. Perhaps they were setting up for a siege that would never happen. In that case, Steve might like to make her some art. Or watch _After the Thin Man_ again.

Beside her, Loki made a little whoosh noise and laughed as he splattered an emerald green watercolor pen. Bucky snorted at him.

 

*** 

They waited several days for any sign. Nothing changed. In the labs, Loki got on Jane’s nerves. Darcy listened to Tom Petty and the Heartbreaker’s “The Waiting” several times. Scott and the Wombats played Ultimate Frisbee on the lawn. Pietro and Wanda’s team won, of course, but the Wombats were good sports.

Darcy maintained her routine of going out for coffee alone sometimes. One afternoon, she got back in the Impala and drove away. “Do you mind if I play some Eddie Floyd?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t mind,” a male voice said.

Darcy was careful never to look directly at Bucky, hidden in the floorboard of the backseat. “Maybe he’s not coming after all, Buck,” she said, smiling.

“I don’t think so, doll,” Bucky said. 

Bucky went everywhere with Darcy now. Steve might be under surveillance, but nobody knew about Bucky.

 

***

_A gas station somewhere on I-87 in upstate New York_

 

“That’s a really cool car, man,” the teenager lingering outside said to the two men getting into the black car. “What kind of car is that?”

The driver turned to look at him and smiled. “It’s a 1974 Chevy Impala, kid,” the driver said. "Just bought it yesterday."

"He's gonna have one in every color eventually," the passenger said.

  
After they’d driven away--followed by several dark SUVs--the teen looked at his friends. “Did you see that guy’s face?” he asked. "What the fuck was that?"

“Creepy as hell,” one of them said.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm totally convinced that Darcy's supplementary prep for sieges includes trips to the craft store, charging her phone, and restocking the coffee beans and Pop-Tarts, along with helping Steve strategize the best way to move SI's employees out.
> 
> *In black, the 1974 Impala is a little bit funeral-y.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jolene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing. Thanks for all your comments and support! Y'all are awesome.

They got news. Security footage had spotted Crossbones in the city, looking at Impalas. Tony had notified authorities, but he’d already disappeared. At the facility, they were waiting for the inevitable. Natasha polished her Widow’s Bites, Steve boxed, Bucky had Tony recheck his arm, and Loki pretended not to care.

Darcy wanted to scream. The tension was getting to her. “It’s going to be okay,” Jane said to her comfortingly. “He can’t get in here.”

Darcy felt strongly--though she didn’t say it to Jane--that Brock Rumlow could get in anywhere. He had certainly crawled into her brain and taken up residence.

  
***

That evening, they got an alert. “Jarvis picked up some security feeds. A group of SUVs led by an Impala outside of Kingston,” Tony said. “Headed in our direction.”

“Pull up the footage?” Maria Hill asked. Stark’s new HR official had stayed behind. Rumlow was part of her unfinished SHIELD business, too. They looked at the caravan of SUVs on Tony’s screen. Sitting next to Darcy, Steve looked grave. Thor put his arm around Jane.

“Assuming a six man team per vehicle, that means Rumlow has brought thirty people with him,” Sharon Carter said. She and Maria had been dating for a little longer than Steve and Darcy. “Does he really think he can take over this facility with thirty people?” she asked incredulously.

“It’s not like he doesn’t know we have a Hulk,” Tony said.

“Tony, be nice,” Pepper told him, from an adjoining video screen. They’d skyped her and Hank Pym in. Darcy had asked that she stay safely in California.

“Thanks, Pep,” Bruce said, smiling at the CEO.

“This worries me,” Hank Pym said, from his seat next to Pepper in a San Francisco conference room. Clint nodded.

“You ain’t the only one,” Rhodey said, coming into the room. “I just got a call. My military intelligence sources say he stole a biochemical weapon in Nigeria. Got the gates open with a truck and used poisonous gas canisters in an attack on the Institute of Infectious Disease. I think we should expect those methods.”

“This facility is sealed,” Tony said. “It’s state of the art technology.”

“You know that’s famous last words, right?” Scott said. “I got in here.”

“He’s right, baby Howard,” Hank said. “If Scott can get in, Crossbones certainly can.”

Scott made a face, but nodded at the veracity of Hank’s statement.

“We have arc generated power, but that doesn’t mean he can’t try to poison the water or the air, Tony,” Pepper said.

“Pepper is correct,” Bruce said. “We’re most vulnerable to biochemical attack via our water system. We need to get that biochemical back.”

“How long do we have?” Darcy asked from the corner of the room. Steve’s grip on her hand tightened.

“Approximately three hours based on my calculations, Miss Lewis,” the AI system said politely. “Unless they don’t come directly.”

“I think I should try something,” Darcy said. “If he doesn’t try to poison us all tonight, we’re moving to Plan C.” She and Steve and Bucky had discussed several hypothetical scenarios. They’d mapped all the way to Plan F.

“What is Plan C?” Tony asked.

 

“When you really like a guy, you give him your number," Darcy said. “And then you make a date.”

 

***

 

There were a few ways to see the new Avengers facility: make an appointment with Maria Hill’s colleague who was head of public relations for SI, be a close personal friend of Tony Stark, or fly over in a plane. Scott Lang had picked the third method to crash land in Tony’s backyard with his ants.

 

Crossbones went a different way. He packed long-range binoculars and a camera. Then he drove to a hill that overlooked the valley. It offered clear views of the facility below. “Typical,” he said to the man with him. “Stark is such a technophile that he forgets old-fashioned surveillance. I bet this is the same spot where the paparazzi took those pictures.”

“A smarter guy would buy this land and fence it off, boss,” the other man agreed, looking at the unobstructed view. A little while later, a dark SUV pulled up and the second man departed for their rental house.

Brock Rumlow was staying all night. He wanted to be alone. He had hisassault rifle in the trunk with one of the high tech SHIELD sights they'd used on the _Lemurian Star_. Next to it, there was a box filled with three vials of a biochemical weapon. He leaned against the Impala in the dark and looked at the lights of the Avengers building. Darcy was somewhere behind those walls. He’d rolled down the car’s windows, so he could hear Dolly Parton singing "Jolene." He’d named his gun after the song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jolene might take your man just because she can.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I Put A Spell On You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing. Thanks for all the comments and kudos!

That morning, Darcy left for coffee like it was an ordinary day. There had been no incursions into the facility, but there had been reports of the SUVs they suspected were Crossbones and his men in a nearby town. No one had seen the Impala, though. Darcy knew that her woods surveillance guy--European Cigarette SHIELDRA, she’d nicknamed him mentally--was probably still watching her. She needed him to be for this to work. Inside the coffee shop, they were playing Nina Simone’s "I Put A Spell On You” when she ordered her latte.

“That’s a little bit loud, don’t you think?” the woman beside Darcy said.

Momentarily distracted, Darcy spilled her drink on the floor. “I’m sorry,” she said. Something about her had reminded Darcy of Dana and for a second she thought it actually was Dana.

“Oh, it’s okay, honey,” the woman said, as Darcy mopped her coffee spill up with napkins.

"It's just one of those days," Darcy said.

 

It was unusually busy for that time of day. Darcy had to wait for a table to open up to leave a note. She was sweating in the sunshine as she wrote down the number for her burner phone on a napkin. As a last gesture, she rubbed the napkin over her Fracas-scented wrist.

“I don’t know if that worked,” she said quietly to Bucky as they drove away.

“Drive around,” Bucky told her from the floorboard in the backseat. “See if he calls.”

 

***

 

Fifteen minutes later, Brock Rumlow called the number on the napkin. His surveillance guy had brought it to him. It smelled of her perfume.

“Hello?” a female voice said tentatively.

“Baby?” Brock said.

“Oh God,” Darcy said, sounding hysterical. “You called. You called,” she whispered. “I didn’t think you would. I didn’t know if you were really watching or if it was all in my mind. Where have you been?”

“You left me, sweetheart,” he said. “I didn’t leave you.”

“I didn’t want to leave,” Darcy replied.

“I saw the security footage, you walked out the goddamned door,” he said roughly. He couldn’t believe she was lying to him like this. “Why should I give you another fucking chance?” he asked, his feelings of rejection spilling over.

“You don’t understand,” she said. “I called Jane. I was going to tell her to stop looking. I wanted to stay with you. But she told me Rogers and Romanoff were already in France first. I didn’t know what else to do. Faison was gone and you were passed out,” Darcy said. “I couldn't wake you. I did the only thing I could. If they’d found you….”

 

There was a long moment of silence on the phone.

 

“You left to keep Rogers and Romanoff from capturing me?” Rumlow said, feeling oddly empty.

“I thought you would come for me, but you never did,” she told him in a sad voice. “I waited for you, baby. I waited so long.”

“You still want me?” he asked.

"Maybe it's too late. They're watching me all the time now," she said. "They keep making me meet with all these therapists, trying to find out about you. Cap is always hanging around, too."

"It's not too late," he said firmly. "I'll come get you now. Just walk out. I can pick you up."

“No, they know I don't go walking on the grounds, they'll watch me. It has to look like a normal errand. I can try to meet you tomorrow when I usually get coffee. That Twilight diner on 2nd St. But If they find out I've got this phone, they’ll keep me here. I think Jane already suspects I’ve changed too mu--.”

The line went dead.

A few minutes later, he got a text from the burner phone:  _don't call, almost caught. meet me tomorrow. love you._

 

***

From the backseat of Darcy’s Impala, Bucky Barnes whistled. “Damn, doll,” he said. “They should give you all the awards, you’re better than Joan Crawford and Marlene Dietrich.”

 

“What do we do now?” Steve asked Darcy, when she and Bucky returned to the facility.

“We see if he takes the bait,” Darcy said.

“Do you really think you’re that attractive?” Loki asked, appearing suddenly beside them. “That he will throw caution to the wind and walk right into this facility without trying to poison us?”

“I think she’s got him, Punk,” Bucky said to Steve, as if Loki hadn’t spoken. They were getting used to ignoring his insults, but Steve still shot him a dirty look.

“We’ll run the drill again tonight,” Steve said. “But this is your last field trip, honey,” he said to Darcy. “I don’t even want you to stand too near windows, in case he’s got something that can see through the window veils. If he sees you, he might want to do one of those--what’d they call it last night on TV, Buck?--a slash and grab?” Steve asked.

“Smash and grab,” Bucky corrected, grinning. His grasp of slang was much better than Steve’s. He thought Steve’s fascination with police procedurals was hilarious.

“Of course, I suppose he’s no longer that attractive anymore,” Loki said musingly from behind them. "Maybe he does see you as an exemplary beauty, despite the fact that you are nearly blind and unnaturally small, even for a Midgardian."

"Shut it, Point Break's brother," Tony said, walking up to them. They'd learned that referring to him as Thor's brother tended to make Loki pout. "Jarvis told me you were back. What'd I miss?" Tony asked. "What's the 411 on Scarface and his crew now?"

"He thinks I'm meeting him at the diner tomorrow," Darcy said. "When I normally get coffee."

"Want to send Romanoff in a photostatic veil?" Tony said.

"I could do it," Loki said. He shimmered and then reassembled himself into a copy of Darcy. "Ye gods, you are short. How do you reach anything?" he asked in her voice. Even Bucky chuckled at that. 

"She doesn't," Bucky said. He'd been teasing Darcy lately by holding her Pop-Tarts above her head with his metal arm.

"Are we done making fun of Itty Bitty's height?" Tony asked. As a fellow shorter-than-average brunette, he and Darcy had bonded over their reliance on those metal grabber thingies to reach high shelves.

Darcy looked at Loki-Darcy. "You've given me an idea, Loki. Can you start working on impersonating me? And helping Nat, Maria, and Sharon copy my mannerisms?"  
  
"I cannot say they will be as successful as me," he began in her voice, but Darcy cut him off.

"I'm sure they won't be but you could be a very good teacher," she told him. "I can't even tell us apart. Just let them watch you."

Looking pleased and more than a bit wicked, Loki-Darcy disappeared in a spray of green sparkles.

 

  
"He was a good copy," Bucky said thoughtfully, "I'd watch your back, Stevie. He could play a real trick on ya one day. Worse than when he erased the DVR."

"Don't even put that idea out there, Buck. You know he hears everything," Steve said, groaning. "I don't want to accidentally kiss Loki."

"I don't think he likes blondes," Darcy said. "Jane told me has a thing for Sif, supposedly. If that's true, he's much more likely to impersonate Sharon to try to kiss Maria. Maria is, like, Sif's Midgardian cousin-thrice-removed or something."

"Maria will shoot him," Tony said cheerfully.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also sorta wanted to end on that Bucky line about Joan Crawford. I love the idea of Bucky riding in cars, all secretly murder-ready.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing. Thanks for all your support! I appreciate all your comments and kudos.

The next day, Rumlow sent part of his team to do recon at the diner. They were supposed to call him the moment Darcy drove up. The team member in charge called. He’d been sitting at a table there for ten minutes, but Darcy hadn’t shown up.

“Anyone watching you?” Rumlow asked. He was outside the diner in a nearby parking garage, but he didn’t want his team to know. He’d been there for thirty minutes, watching with binoculars.

“Nope,” the man said. “The place is dead. Just one old couple bickering.”

“Give it another five minutes, then go back to the house,” Rumlow said.

“What’s going on?” the man asked.

Rumlow didn’t answer him. Instead, he hung up the phone. He didn’t want anyone to see him weep.

  
***

Inside the diner, the couple were having the blue plate special. “You need to stop fidgeting,” Natasha Romanoff told Loki quietly. Her photostatic veil--it was very grandmotherly--frowned.  

“I’m bored. This is boring,” Loki whispered. “I wanted to play her. Also, suspenders are dreadful.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and muttered to herself.  “You can do that later,” she whispered.

“Martha,” he said more loudly, “these eggs are cold.”

“George, you’re yelling again,” Natasha said.

“We’re the only people here!” Loki said, as if he was hard of hearing. “Who cares if I yell, Martha?”

“I can’t hear the music, George! You know I love this song,” Natasha complained.

 

The diner was playing oldies: the Platters were singing “Only You” at that exact moment.

  
***

Rumlow and his team missed a tiny Scott Lang on the roof, too. Scott saw everyone. Then he comm’d Darcy. “He is here, too. Looks a little rough,” Scott said. He sent her the surveillance footage of Rumlow parked.

“All right, do you think you can do it?” Darcy asked him. Scott had several tiny tracking devices, miniaturized by Hank Pym.

“Yup, got it,” Scott said.

“What about his trunk?” Darcy asked. They had discussed whether or not the ants could get in the trunk to check for the bioweapon.

“I can handle it,” Scott said confidently. At Darcy’s elbow in the facility’s lab, Steve frowned.

“Don’t take any unnecessary risks, Scott. We need you,” Steve said. "Nat and Loki are there as backup, too."

“It’s so cool when Captain America says he needs you,” Scott said, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah, dude,” Sam said from his spot on the parking garage’s roof. “Check for the deadly chemicals.”

“You should kiss him now and again, it’s really special,” Darcy said, nudging Steve with her arm. Steve blushed.

“Is he blushing? I can hear him blushing,” Sam joked.

 

First, Scott’s ants flew him to the garage and he carefully tagged the underside of the Impala. While he worked, the ants marched up the vehicle’s side and discovered a tiny spot of decay under one of the tail lights that had left a hole. They crawled into the trunk. The ants communicated with Scott.

“Bingo!” Scott said over the comms. “He's got the vials with him. We lucked out. There's a little hole under one of the tail lights, they crawled right in.”

“Can you get them out without dropping them?” Steve asked quietly. “If they break, they’re deadly.”

“The ants can,” Scott said. “They’re much less clumsy than me. Also, they can re-weight the box with the fakes that Sam has. He won’t know it’s even gone.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen ‘em,” Sam said. "They're much less likely to drop the thing that could kill me up here."  
  
After Scott popped the trunk a fraction from the outside, the ants brought the small vials--leaving the box as a decoy--to the ground and carried them up to Sam. He flew off to the facility with them safely in his bag. He sent the fake vials back down with the ants to Scott to replace the real ones. The hardest part was going to be shutting the trunk, Scott thought. Except the ants had that covered, too. They just re-engaged the latch from the inside and crawled out of the trunk.

Then the ants flew Scott down to the diner’s lot and Scott attached himself to the men’s SUV.

"Scott, how's it going?" Darcy comm'd him, when they were en route. "Everything is good here."

"I'm hanging out," he said cheerfully, from his spot on the SUV's roof. "It's very casual."

Scott did a ride along to find out where they were staying and tagged each SUV with a tracking device.Then he hitched a ride back to the facility on his ants.

When he got there, there was a welcoming committee: Darcy, Jane, Thor, the Wombats, and Steve. They applauded him and Darcy threw glitter confetti. She thought Ant-Man’s particular skill set was under-appreciated. Scott bowed. He was especially delighted when Captain America hugged him and called him the “Man of the Hour.” 

Tony was waiting upstairs with all of Scott’s tracking data and the real biochemicals. “What are the fake vials filled with?” Rhodey asked, as they locked up the real ones in a case. He'd been the one to tell them how to prep the fakes, so they'd look right. Now he was flying the real ones to a military base with Sam tonight.

“Oh, I filled them with Fracas,” Darcy told him. “It is his favorite, after all.”

 

***

 

A few minutes after he’d spoken to his men and while Scott was their secret passenger, Rumlow’s phone rang. He recognized the number of the burner phone.

“Baby?” Darcy’s voice said. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

“Where are you?” he asked. Her voice was barely audible, but he could hear running water.

“I can’t leave. Jane thinks I’m taking a shower. The bathroom is the only place that’s not monitored by the AI. They saw a report about you being in New York City and Tony locked the whole place down,” Darcy whispered. “No one can leave.”

“Fuck,” Rumlow said. “Just wait, baby. Wait, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I miss you,” she told him. “I think about you all the time. I miss your touch.”

“I miss you, too. Those pictures you did for me made me crazy, sweetheart.”

“You liked them? I had to change my hair to get them off my back, I was afraid you might hate it now.”

“No, you look beautiful, baby,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. “So beautiful.” Almost involuntarily, he rubbed his groin.

When she heard his sharp intake of breath, Darcy spoke softly, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, “I just can’t stop, baby. I’ve been jerking off like a teenager since I got your note. It still smelled like you, too.”

“I want to be with you again. They keep trying to make me forget y--”

Suddenly, he heard another female voice, “Darce, who are you talking to? Jarvis, emergency lock override now! Oh my God, where did you get that ph--”

 

The line went dead again. When he tried to send her a text message that night, it was returned as a not in service number.

 

***

After he got the error message, Brock Rumlow video called Tony Stark from his temporary residence. He’d cloaked it with a piece of SHIELD tech that HYDRA had stolen, so all his calls were untraceable.

“Hello, Tony Stark,” he said.

“Scarface,” Tony replied. “Having a good day?” Tony appeared to be alone in his lab.

“You have something that is mine. I want her back,” Rumlow said.

“Oh, I don’t think that will be possible. Personally, I’m very attached to her,” Tony said. “She brings me my coffee everyday. Her job is too important. She’s irreplaceable.”

“Fuck you, Stark. She wants to be with me,” Rumlow said. “Let me see her.”

“She may have some lingering attachment to you because you messed up her mind, but we’re working on that. I’ve got a team of therapists trying to de-bug her and Cap to keep her company.”

“Give her to me, Stark,” Rumlow said. “Or you’ll regret it.”

“As long as she’s in this building, you’ll never see her again,” Tony said. “I’ve got medical consent to hold her on the premises. She’s very unwell.” 

Tony disconnected the call.

 

***

“Do you really think this will work?” Bruce asked Steve, as they sat in Jane’s lab. “Flush him out?”

“It’s the best opportunity we have to get him here,” Steve said. “We want to minimize civilian casualties, so I’d like him to come to us, rather than going after him in public. It’s a gamble.”

“And we’ll always know where he is,” Scott said, handing Bucky a wrench. Bucky’s metal arm was very good for repair work.

“It’s not that big a gamble,” Bucky said from behind one of Jane’s Science! Machines.

“What do you mean?” Scott asked him. Jane looked up curiously.

“She’s got him wrapped around her finger. I haven’t seen anything like that performance of hers,” Bucky said, “since we used to go see Joan Crawford wipe the floor with a fella, Punk.”

Steve smiled. He was very proud of Darcy’s cleverness.

“Where is she now?” Bruce asked curiously.

“Upstairs, letting Loki and the girls practice looking like her,” Steve said.

“It’s kinda creepy,” Scott said. “All of them walking around with her face.”

“So creepy,” Jane said. “Especially when Loki goes back and forth between Darcy and himself.”

“Last night he kept switching between her and me,” Steve said, giving himself a little shake, like a wet dog. “It’s unnerving. Do I really smile like that?”

“No, I think he’s just messing with you,” Jane said comfortingly. "Your smile is much nicer than that."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a soft spot in my heart for Scott, so he got to save the day in this one.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark Night
> 
> (ch. update 1 of 2 for the afternoon of 6/24)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing. Thanks for all your kudos and comments! Y'all are the best!

Upstairs, the Wombats were staring--rather too intently, Darcy thought--at Loki-Darcy as he strutted across the room.

“I don’t walk like that, do I?” Darcy asked Maria Hill. Maria, Sharon, Hope, and Nat were all wearing Darcy photostatic veils and identical outfits. They’d propped up a mirror opposite the couch, so they could watch Loki and make Darcy faces.

“No,” Maria said flatly.

“Nuh-huh,” Sharon said.

“Nope,” Hope said. She’d arrived in her Wasp suit while Scott was out and immediately joined the Darcy-bots. She wouldn’t even need to wear a wig.

“I do not think so,” Nat said.

 

“When I play you, you do,” Loki-Darcy announced, shaking Darcy’s bobbed hair like he was in a shampoo commercial. He reached down and adjusted Darcy’s boobs to make them more prominent.

“Hey,” Darcy said. “Hands off the tatas!”

“They’re very nice boobs,” Dave said, looking at Loki-Darcy. “No offense.”

“Yes,” Kurt said, nodding.

“Yeah,” Luis said, “I mean, you got, like, a retro rack, Miss Itty Bitty. Like that Jayne Mansfield lady from the fifties.” He gestured with his hands, making an hourglass shape. “All va-va-voom and stuff. It’s no wonder that Captain Steve really likes you, since that was the figure back in his day. All those pin up ladies.”

“Why don’t people look like that anymore?” Dave mused.

Kurt looked thoughtful. “It is mystery,” he said.

“Because women no longer wear girdles to unnaturally constrain their waists and accentuate their curves, children,” Nat said definitively. Even in a Darcy mask she retained her aura of superior intelligence.

“Really?” Darcy asked. “What about Spanx?”

“I don’t think Spanx are as strong as girdles,” Maria said. “My grandmother used to wear a girdle and you couldn’t even pinch her when she wore it, it was so tight and binding.”

Sharon shuddered. “That sounds horrible,” she said, frowning with Darcy's face.

Clint dropped down from a vent suddenly. “I have an opinion about girdles and tatas,” he said, grinning.

"Clint!" Darcy said. "Don't you start, too. Or you forfeit the coconut cream pie I was gonna make you."

"Aww, Itty Bitty, no," Clint said.

“You are all supposed to be looking at me,” Loki-Darcy pouted. Then he transformed himself into Jayne Mansfield and winked at the Wombats.

“Turn back, I’m studying,” Maria said seriously. She had a notepad on her lap. Loki obliged. 

 

Luis was still talking about how much Darcy resembled a classic pinup when Steve came to the doorway and cleared his throat.

“Why are you talking about that? And who is Jayne Mansfield?” he asked seriously.

“I am!” Loki announced, magicking himself from Darcy into a blonde and blowing a kiss playfully at Steve.

“She was in a lot of those old movies, Captain Steve,” Luis said. “She was, like, the hot girl of your day. Because she wore bathing suits and stuff?”

“I have absolutely no idea who that is,” Steve said. “I’ve never seen that woman before.”

“I think she was a little after Steve’s day, actually,” Darcy admitted. “Her daughter is on one of the _Law & Order _shows, honey,” she said to Steve. “She plays Olivia Benson.”

“Oh, I like _Law & Order _,” Steve said. He looked curiously at Loki. Loki waved at him.

“Switch back to Darcy,” Sharon grumbled. Loki turned back into her again and smiled at Steve. It was a slightly too-wide fake smile.

“I hate when you do that,” Steve said. “It’s bad enough that there’s already a half-dozen of her wandering around.”

“Hey!” the four Darcy copies and Darcy said in unison. “We aren’t doing anything!”

Steve sighed. “Are you planning to talk identically, too?” he asked.

“No,” they said--in unison.

 

Behind Steve, Bucky was laughing quietly.

 

***

Across town, Brock Rumlow sat alone in the dark. The rest of his team had already gone to bed in the rental house, but he couldn’t sleep. He put his boots on and left the house. Moving quietly, he opened the trunk of the Impala and put a stolen SHIELD sight on his assault rifle. It could see through walls.

He sat Jolene next to him in the bench seat of the Impala, put the Blasters’ “Dark Night” on repeat on his phone, and drove to the overlook where he could see the Avengers facility. In the moonlight, the black interior of the car had a dull, strange gleam.

When Rumlow discovered that Tony Stark’s walls were too thick for his gun sight to penetrate, he swore. The photostatic window veils danced with a nighttime message: _Welcome to the Future with the Avengers and Stark Industries_

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the inside of a 1974 Impala looks like: https://www.streetsideclassics.com/vehicles/4274-cha/1974-chevrolet-impala-custom-coupe


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Go Slow
> 
> (ch. update 2 of 2 for the afternoon of 6/24)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing. thanks for all of your support!

Darcy and Steve watched as all the Darcy-bots and Loki went back to normal. “When do we resume the veils?” Hope asked.

“Sounds like joining a convent,” Bucky said cheerfully.

“Funny you should say that,” Tony said. “I’ve always wanted to ask, MurderBuck, is the Capiscle as virtuous as everyone thinks?”

“Tony,” Steve said.

“I do not believe that he is! There was the Valiant Peggy of the Carters, Delores of the USO, Betty of the USO, and…” Thor boomed, counting on his fingers. Bucky’s eyebrows went up.

“Thor, shhh!” Jane said. “Sorry, he’s a god of fertility, so he knows...things.”

“Yes,” Loki said coolly. “In your case,” he said, looking at Darcy, “probably several more things than the good Captain.”

“Hey, now,” Steve said warningly. At Darcy, he said, “I was only ever...intimate with Peggy. The USO girls just thought it was funny to kiss me by surprise sometimes. They said I blushed cute.”

“That sounds more right,” Bucky said, with a mischievous smile at Steve. Tony seemed to find that funny, Steve thought. Weirder still, Bucky winked at him for no reason at all.

 

***

“Steve,” Darcy said, when everyone had drifted off to bed or insomniac work binges, “will you stay with me tonight?”

“Of course,” he said. He didn’t mind sleeping on Darcy’s couch. But he was surprised when she led him to her bedroom instead.

“I’m going to change,” she said. “I had Bucky bring me some of your pajamas.” They were sitting on the bed. That explained the winking, Steve realized. He changed quickly while she was in the bathroom and crawled under her blankets. Her sheets smelled like pleasantly clean-scented laundry soap and her vanilla perfume. She must have asked Jarvis for music; above his head, a sultry female voice was singing about having a lot of time for love.

Mentally, Steve was working a speech about how they didn’t have to do anything tonight. He was happy to wait. It wasn’t a lie. He thought he could spend weeks or months just going on dates with Darcy, once they’d apprehended Rumlow. They’d mostly been going out in groups for safety, but it would be nice to take Darcy places alone. Go to the movies without Nat and Sam and Jane and Thor tagging along. Steve had had to apologize to the whole theater, Thor talked so much. But he thought letting Tony pick that one fancy restaurant with the microscopic portions had been his one real mistake. Pepper and Darcy had been very sweet about it, but his stomach growling had been audible to half the restaurant. He realized he’d never actually dated when it wasn’t wartime or a crazy kidnapper might be after his date.

 

The door to the bathroom opened and Darcy stepped out. “Darce,” he said, “I--uh, wow.” The blue of her lingerie matched the blue of his shield. She’d painted her lips red. He stared as she climbed into bed with him.

“You’re very muscular,” she said conversationally, as she pulled his shirt off. “And very warm. Is all of you this warm, Steve?” She ran her hands down his bare chest. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, licking his lips.

“Yep,” she said. “Absolutely sure. I, on the other hand, have no discernable muscle tone whatsoever,” she quipped, as she eased her body over his hips.

She was his complete opposite: her skin was pale like porcelain, soft--so soft, he thought--and all lush feminine curves. He was staring as she spoke again.

“Steve,” she said suddenly, smiling, “you can talk to me, you know.”

Steve laughed. “I had a speech planned, but you defeated me with that,” he said, touching the silky fabric around her hips and letting his hands slide down her legs gently.

She peeled the scrap of lingerie over her head and Steve sort of stopped breathing at the sight of all her creamy skin. Laughing, she leaned down and kissed him. Of course, he didn't need to breathe for a long time. He intended to demonstrate all the particular advantages of that skill to her tonight.

 

  
***

Down in the lab, Jarvis alerted an unsleeping Tony that one of their tracking devices had pinged within five miles of the facility. The Impala was here.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The woman singing is Julie London. "Go Slow" is a pretty great song.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Green Green Grass of Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your kudos and support.

“Sonofabitch,” Darcy said, from underneath Steve, when Jarvis broke in over her privacy protocols to say they had an Impala-sighting emergency. “I hate that man,” she said.

“Language, doll,” Steve said. He’d already slowed the motion of his hips slightly.

“No,” Darcy said, not ashamed that she was pouting a little. He kissed her again.

“Hmm. We really should go now,” he said a minute or two later, when he’d stopped teasing her bottom lip with his mouth. She was happy to hear the note of regret in his voice.

“I want you to kill Rumlow twice,” Darcy said, seething as she let go of those lovely shoulders and unbracketed her legs from around Steve’s hips so he could get up. He was both very warm and attentive.  He rolled over and got up to start looking for his clothes. She sighed and slumped back on the pillow.

“It had occurred to me that once we got him, you and I could spend more time alone together. I thought we might got to the movies, but if you have other ideas I’m happy to consider them?” Steve said in a more playful tone, once he had one leg in his pants. She threw the other pillow at him. Missed him by a mile. Steve grinned.

“I’m not ready to laugh yet,” she said. “I have to go do something about my hair. Thor can spot sex hair from a mile away.”

 

***

They made their way down to Tony’s lab a few minutes later. Tony waggled his eyebrows at Steve and Thor grinned broadly.  Seeing Darcy’s lethal expression, Jane shook her head at the Asgardian. Thor dropped his smile, but there was still a lot of grinning in the room. They were the last ones to arrive. Loki was doing a wicked-looking Loki-Darcy, Clint was positively glowing with mirth, and even Dave looked a little amused.

“Oh man, I’m like so sorry, Captain Steve and Miss Itty Bitty,” Luis began. “That we interrupted your romantic evening and all--.” He was still talking when Kurt elbowed him.

Nat, Hope, Sharon, and Maria all rolled their eyes and grimaced in unison at Luis. They were getting good at it.

“Sorry, Punk,” Bucky said, shaking his head.

Steve gave the entire room his patented Captain America Disapproves face and Scott took a half-step back.

“I, uh, I’ve got ant surveillance footage, Captain,” Scott said, trying to be respectful. Captain America was his hero. It was super-awkward to be on the other end of that disapproving face, too.

“Play the footage, please,” Steve asked, giving him a relieved look. Scott brightened.

“Well, my Ant-toinette has led the team that tracked him up to this hill,” Scott said, waving his arm at Tony’s screen. They could see the Impala in the dark. “We’ve got visuals and audio,” Scott said proudly.

“Yeah, we know,” Tony said. “The ants.”

“What’s he doing up there?” Maria asked.

“You want me to get them closer?” Scott asked.

“Yes,” Nat said calmly.

“All right,” Scott said. He did something so the ants actually landed on the Impala’s roof, marched down one of the pillars, and down the edge of the passenger door where it met the window. The sounds of someone singing about green, green grass blocked some of Rumlow's noises. They had crawled to the open window before everyone realized what Rumlow was doing.

“Is he actually doing what I think he’s doing?” Bruce asked, looking shocked and faintly horrified.

“Aww, no,” Clint said.

“And sobbing,” Tony supplied. “Why is he sobbing?”

“The burns cause him pain,” Darcy said neutrally. "He always did like Joe Tex."  

“I did not need to see that,” Sharon said. Jane nodded in agreement.

“I think we can cut the audio feed,” Darcy told Scott. “For a few minutes. Maybe move them back a little? The ants don’t need to see that either.”

 

“Should we, uh, go get him?” Tony asked. “He’s alone.”

“With Sam and Rhodey still gone, we don’t have the full aerial support I want if his team realizes that we’ve got him and tries to rescue him,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“They’ve got those rocket launchers,” Scott said. He’d seen them in the backs of the SUVs.

“Plus, he’s clearly unraveling,” Darcy said. “Let him unravel for another day or two.”

“If his second is running an attack on the facility, whoever that is probably mentally fitter, ” Steve admitted, looking at the screen. “It’s to our benefit if they’re listening to him, not someone calmer and more level-headed.”

 

“You know,” Hope said thoughtfully, “instead of luring them all in the front door, now that he has no bioweapon, we could separate them on the grounds? We’ve got enough Darcys.”

“I’m listening,” Nat said.

“How much land do we have?” Hope asked.

“About 15 acres,” Tony said.

“Wouldn’t hurt to preemptively sabotage their equipment, either,” Sharon said. “The ants could jam a lot of the stuff in those SUVs?”

“The ants could disable their comms, too, couldn’t they?” Maria said to Scott.

Scott nodded happily. “They’re very talented.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day, I'm going to have Joe Tex be the background music in a non-creepy story, I swear. Maybe that's my next project.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extra Sharp Cheddar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos.

The ants went out with Scott and Hope that night. While the Impala waited, they sabotaged all the equipment in the SUVs: the firing mechanisms on the guns were disassembled, the grenades rendered useless, the rocket launchers were carefully disarmed, and the ants even placed some of Tony’s new, high-tech invisible tape over the knife blades to dull them. None of it was visible from the outside. “Huzzah!” Scott cheered as they all flew away. “I think I did it all.”

“Technically,” Hope said in a crisp voice, “my father’s highly trained, astoundingly skilled ants did all the work. You just turned tiny and stood around.”

“Why do you always have to burst my bubble? I’m trying to go straight here,” Scott said, “Captain America needs me.”

“That’s right,” Steve said over comms. “I need you both to successfully complete this mission.” Hope tried not to laugh as Scott puffed out his chest in response. It was really too cute.

“I’m a front line soldier in the war on terror,” Scott announced proudly. “Take that, Baskin Robbins!”

 

“This kid’s beginning to grow on me,” Tony said in the lab. “It’s something about how his self-esteem is totally independent of his actual skill. It reminds me of, well, me.”

“I think he’s adorbs,” Darcy told Tony. “If Steve wasn’t here, I’d be chasing Scott around like he was made of Baskin-Robbins.”

“Hey, Steve, you hear that?” Clint asked.

“Of course I heard that,” Steve said. “She also says that about Kevin.”

“He makes the best vanilla lattes in the employee cafe, I want you to give him a raise, Tony,” Darcy said. “Nobody else makes my order as well.”

“Kevin, huh? Isn’t he the weedy little guy? You got some tough competition there, Capiscle,” Tony said.

“I think I can handle it,"  Steve said coolly. “Now, everybody go get some rest. Tomorrow will be busy.”

“Do we have to rest?” Darcy asked him coyly. “Or do we have time for...fondue?”

“Who told you about fondue?” Steve said, grinning.

“Bucky,” Darcy said. Behind them, Bucky smiled sweetly.

“Have some fondue, Punk, you’re overdue,” the ex-Winter Soldier said cheerfully as everyone left the lab.

“Fondue?” Tony said. “Did they have that in the 1940s? I thought it was a seventies deal?”

“I’m sure I don’t want to know,” Maria said. Sharon nodded in agreement.

 

“I might have time for fondue,” Steve admitted quietly, once they were (mostly) alone and walking towards Darcy’s room.

“Hellllllo, Havarti,” Darcy said cheerfully. “I’m the luckiest mouse.” She continued with her cheese metaphors as Steve and she walked. "Seriously sharp in a uniform, like cheddar. That's you. Prettier than Parm. Good as Gouda. Sassy as Stilton. Better than brie, Cap...."

"How many cheeses are there?" Steve asked, torn between bafflement and delight.

 

***

 

The attack at dawn was something of an anticlimax. As Rumlow’s men began firing in the grey morning light, they realized their guns were failing. “What should we do, boss?” the point man called over comms. Rumlow was still off-site.

“Go to grenades,” he said.

“Grenades failing! Grenades failing!” another of the men called. Then he screamed. He’d been hit by Cap’s shield.

“Fight hand-to-hand if you need to. I just need you as a distraction,” Rumlow said, watching from the hill above. He waiting near a quinjet. He had his ‘chute on. It was underneath the vest.

“Rumlow isnt here,” Steve said, as he veered his motorcycle around a clump of men, grabbed the shield as it returned, and threw it again.

"Not here, either!" Pietro called, as he flashed between men. 

“I’m looking!” Natasha said, She had her legs wrapped around a mercenary’s shoulders as she hit him with her Widow’s Bites.

“Doing flyover now!” Tony said.

“I know where he is! The ants have him in the hills above us,” Scott called. “Do you want me to grab him?”

“Get me eyes on him!” Steve called. Scott and the ants complied by getting closer.

“Uh-oh,” Scott said.

“What is it?” Natasha said.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Clint said.

“He’s got enough C4 to level a high-rise strapped to his vest, Cap,” Scott said glumly.

“Shit,” Tony said.

“Language, Tony. Scott, get your ants back. I don’t want to risk them,” Steve said authoritatively. The ants were too valuable.

“Thank you, sir!” Scott said. He was relieved. He loved his ants. He didn’t want to sacrifice them. Also, Captain America was just an awesome dude. “I knew he would understand how important you are,” Scott said out loud, happily patting the ant that he was riding.

“What was that, Tiny Tim?” Tony asked.

“Nothing?” Scott said.

“What do we do to lure him out?” Bucky said. “Unless you think I can hit him from here? I might have a shot.”  Bucky was the best marksman of the team.

“I’d like him on the grounds!” Steve said. “Greater chance of you getting him with a clean shot before he blows himself up.”

“Let us out then!” Hope van Dyne called. All the fake Darcys were waiting to enter the battle.

“All right, all photostatic Darcys on the field, fan out!” Cap called. “Let’s see if they follow you.”

 

***

Darcy and Jane were in a panic room inside, guarded by Wanda Maximoff. “This is anxiety-inducing,” Darcy complained, tugging at her shirt. “Also, aren’t you needed out there?”

“I am here to protect you,” Wanda said calmly. The watched the battle outside via several camera feeds.

“Darcy, are you okay?” Jane said. She didn’t like the look on Darcy’s face.

“I’ll be fine, Jane,” Darcy said. “Perfectly fine.”

 

***

“She’s on the grounds, boss!” one of the mercenaries called.

“I’ve got eyes on her on the south quadrant!” a second said.

“I’ve got her on the west quadrant...there are multiple women who look like her!” a third said. “What the fuck do we do, boss?”

“None of those are her,” Rumlow said, looking through his binoculars. “I know her.”

“Do you?” a voice said behind him. He turned and the binoculars fell from his hands.

“Sweetheart, I missed you, I missed you so much,” he said to Darcy. She was standing a few feet away. He walked towards her, a gleam in his eye.  “I’d know you anywhere, the way you move, your expressions, the way your hair falls across your forehead….” He reached out and touched her bangs gently. “You belong with me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think this fic was MIA? She's baaaaaaaaaack.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Keep me always on your lips"-- the real slogan for an Elvis lipstick from the 1950s
> 
> (Let's finish this today, huh? Update 2/2 for 11/1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for being so patient while I came up with an idea for ending this.

“Will you leave with me?” Darcy asked quietly, holding his dark gaze. “Stop all this? Can we just go?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rumlow said, smiling slowly. He made to put his arms around her, then stopped. “Don’t touch me, it’s not safe. I’m wired.”

“Okay,” she said, looking at the explosives on his chest.

“Come with me,” he said, holding out his mangled hand. She noticed that his fingers shook.

She took his hands and followed him towards the quinjet. His palm was damp with sweat. He looked back at her and smiled his gruesome smile.

“What about them?” she asked, meaning his men.

“Who?” he said. “Oh, them. Doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t want Jane to be hurt,” Darcy said quietly, pausing on the ramp.

He touched his comms device. “Surrender or run,” he said.

“What, boss?” a tinny voice said.

“Abort mission. Surrender or run.” He squeezed Darcy’s hand gently and threw the comms device on the ground. “You look beautiful,” he told her. Her lips were so red.

 

***

“Quinjet’s flying! Quinjet’s flying!” Scott called.

“I’m headed your way!” Tony said. As he flew over the facility, he realized the quinjet was headed away from him. It switched to stealth mode and shimmered into nothingness.

“Did you lose sight of it, too?” Bucky called. “Eyes on Rumlow?”

“It’s gone! Why is it gone?” Scott asked. “What’s happening? Is he going to come back?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said. Something was wrong. “Round all these men up so we can interrogate them. Natasha, can you go check on Bruce?”

“Yes,” Natasha said. Bruce had been waiting in the wings, ready to transform into the Other Guy as a last resort. With such a big team, Steve preferred to hold the Hulk in reserve. Natasha snuck back into the facility.

“No need for the A-bomb today, huh?” Bruce said when she found him sitting quietly in his reinforced, padded room.

“You aren’t a nuclear weapon,” Natasha told him gently. “But something is wrong. Rumlow fled. Put your adorable doctor genius hat on and come with me.”

“Okay,” he said, blushing a little at adorable.

***

 

“Where’s Darcy?” Steve said over comms in a panic. Rumlow wouldn’t leave without launching an attack--unless he had Darcy. “Wanda?” he said.

“She’s right here, Ste--” Wanda began, then froze. Darcy wasn’t sitting in the spot where she’d been previously.

“I am sorry, but she made me promise to keep this part of her emergency plan a secret,” Loki said calmly. “I do so enjoy secrets.”

“Where is she?” Jane yelled. She grabbed Loki’s shoulders and shook him. “Where is she?!”

“That I do not know,” Loki said, shrugging elegantly. “I only knew I had the opportunity to play an excellent trick. You truly believed I was her, did you not?”

“How could you do this?” Jane said.

“She did not wish to be locked up like your Rapunzel. I rather agreed with her,” he said. “Why should everyone else have all the fun?” Then he shimmered out of the panic room with a laugh.

"Damn him," Jane muttered.

 

Steve raced on his motorcycle to the top of the hill. No one was there. All he found was a small comms device in the dirt. A moment later, there was a polished voice in his ear.

“Excuse me, Captain Rogers. I fear you’ll be upset--” Jarvis said.

 

***

“I’m so happy you’re with me, sweetheart. So happy,” Rumlow said, setting up autopilot on the quinjet. He stood and walked back to her, cupping her face in his hands, then leaned forward and rested his scarred forehead against her smooth one.

“I wasn’t sure if you would be,” Darcy said carefully. “But I thought it was worth the risk.”

“Anything is worth it,” he said huskily, leaning in to kiss her. He’d missed her mouth. She tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged him gently towards her in encouragement. He deepened the kiss. She had the most wonderful mouth, he thought. He’d dreamed of that mouth...dreamed of that mouth...so soft. Heavy. Soft. Heavy. He let go of her face and swayed backwards, tumbling to the floor. “Sweetheart?” he said, struggling to keep his eyes open. She knelt over him, looking like an angel in a vision. He reached out to touch her, but his arm was so heavy. His eyes flickered.

“How do I turn this off?” she asked, indicating the vest.

“Green wire,” he slurred. “Dreamed about you. Always.”

“I dreamed about you, too,” Darcy said. Hers were nightmares. “Is it really the green wire?”

“Uh-huh,” Rumlow said, smiling.

“Yes, Miss Lewis,” Jarvis said in her ear. She was wearing her own comms. “I have completed a visual and x-ray scan. Disconnect the green wire.”

“Thank you,” Darcy said. She’d listened to the whole battle and decided to intervene when she heard Scott informing everyone about the vest. He would blow anyone else up, she knew. But she had a chance. And she thought he might be able to spot a fake Darcy.

“Would do anything for you,” Rumlow said, as Darcy deftly detached the wires.

“I know,” she said.

“I love you,” he said. He struggled to sit up.

“No, no,” she told him. “You’re sleepy, you rest.”

“Wanna kiss you again,” he said. “So nice.”

“Oh, I think you’ve had enough of Peggy and Dottie Underwood’s very special lipstick,” she said, rolling him on his side so she could disarm him and zip tie his hands behind his back and his ankles together. Then she would turn the quinjet around. She'd considered just shooting him, but she liked the idea of him being stuck in jail instead of just dead. He was evidently ready to die, so she wasn't giving him what he wanted. She was pretty sure living would be worse for him. “Sweet Dreams,” she told him. Then she took the Impala keys out of his pocket. Finders keepers, after all. It was parked in a lot in town. Who'd notice if she took it? Maybe Steve. She could work on convincing him it counted as a terrorist finder's fee. "I'm taking your car," she told him.

“Mmm-hmmm, sweetheart,” he said. "S'yours."

"You know, I agree," Darcy said.

***

 

She landed the quinjet on Tony’s lawn. It was a little bumpy, but Jarvis helped. She stepped past a snoring Rumlow and out onto the ramp. Steve had run out onto the lawn as soon as Jarvis told them to meet her. “Where is he?” Steve said, looking faintly gobsmacked.

“Zip-tied in the bay,” she said walking on the grass.

“How did you--” Steve began.

“I might tell you one day,” Darcy said, “but nobody’s ever locking me in a panic room again.”

“No,” Steve said, his stunned expression shifting to a pleased smile. He stood there smiling at her a minute.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to take the wanted terrorist to jail?” Darcy asked.

“I’m going!” Steve said.

“Natasha is teaching me things,” Darcy admitted.

“What things?” Steve called from inside the quinjet. “Wait, let me guess--how to kiss a man unconscious?”

“Possibly,” Darcy said, as Steve emerged carrying a snoring Rumlow.

“Whaddya need Nat for? You demonstrated that last night,” he teased, strolling past her.

"Steve!" she called.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning.

"Just don't touch his lipstick," Darcy said. 

"I wasn't planning on kissing him myself," Steve said.

 

-THE END-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EvilKidnapper!Brock got a reprieve from death in this one by the skin of his, well, lipstick-smudged teeth. I was going to have Darcy kill him off, but then I decided thirty years in SuperMax prison would be more painful to him than her killing him at close range. Also, I assume Darcy goes around swiping all his cool cars and claiming them for herself once he's safely behind bars.
> 
> Chapter mood music: Lana del Rey's fantastically weird unreleased track, "Elvis": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yitma0spOCk


End file.
